Rooftops
by Ash-Lee-Can
Summary: They were family sure, leaders of course, but they weren't really friends. Not at first. Just two people who didn't mind each other's presence. Now they have a special place, just for the two of them. Series of Michonne and Abraham's friendship. Other characters may appear or at least get talked about. Hope you all give it a shot...
1. Kudos To You

A/N : So I've been wanting a lighthearted, fun and adult frienship for Michonne on the show. Story with a character that's away from the Grimes family because even though I ship Richone/Grimes 2.0, I don't want Michonne's life and story to surround that all the time. Considering her stories on both the show and fics tend to mostly involve that, I figured I'd do something different. (Still open to do Richonne fics, so send in a prompt or idea if you want it)with a character that was different from herself but also someone she could relate to. Abraham. And after their small scene from season 5, I've been wanting that possible friendship, espeially since they don't give me enough Michonne/Glenn Big Sister/Little Brother. This isn't a romance series, although Abraham being Abraham have no issue with flirting. Anyway, one with the story. I'd really appreciate feedback. It's my first time doing a TWD fic and I haven't written in general in a long ass time. You hear that rust? Talking years…

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 **Chapter 1: Kudos To You**

 _Summary: After Michonne leaves her own welcome party, she finds herself on her rooftop and ends up being joined by intriging company…_

It was definitely past midnight. There was an unusual chill in the Alexandrian air on the late August night. She had been in DC during the winter once before, but only for a business and she certainly couldn't wait to get the hell back to Atlanta then. Although it wasn't winter yet, hell, it wasn't even fall, she was welcoming the crisp air against her warm body to keep her awake. Alert. She didn't want to sleep just yet. Fall prey to the overwhelming lifestyles these people had. And she damn sure didn't want to fall asleep and fall off the damn roof she was perched on top of.

Deanna had thrown them all a welcome party to help them get comfortable with the new enviroment. To get her family and the residents acquainted. The alcohol was still flowing, the commotion was still going. The music had turned a bit louder as the intoxication allowed the lack of care about the noise. She could hear it all still going the street. She knew she should have stayed. She was the new constable after all. They needed to trust her. Respect. Believe. Once upon a time, she excelled at this. The parties, the people and charming her way into people's lives? That was all her. _Before._

A booming voice hits her from below. Made up lyrics coated in drunken rowdiness, making it's way past the owner's lips. The large ginger man stumbling in his march down the street with a sizable, most likely stolen, bottle in his hand.

 _"I don't know what I've been told!_

 _But my nips cut diamonds in this fucking cold!"_

Michonne could only raise an eyebrow in amusement at Abraham's drunk antics. She already had to encounter it a couple of time tonight already. Hell, if she was being honest with herself, some of his words at the party were the reason why she was on top of her roof instead of under it. Trapped in her own mind. With her sword keeping her company.

 _And when I finish that final glass!_

 _I'll warm up enough to tap some ass!"_

"Hoorah!"

Abraham halted in his zig-zag tracks at the mispronounced battle cry. Glassy, red eyes surveying his surroundings, making sure he was hearing things. It wouldn't been the first time.

He finally looked up at his intruder and smirked behind his infamous horseshoe mustache, stumbling back as he tried crane his neck to get a good look. "Now that's what I'm talking about, warrior queen."

Michonne shook her head and chuckled at the man standing in the dark street with his button up shirt untucked and no longer buttoned, off white tank top underneath and perfectly combed hair, no longer perfect, trying to stand still. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"Having a slush rush of a time." His chest heaved, trying to catch his breath as he watched. Why she was on the roof of her house, he didn't know or care. It's was a scary and dangerous sight. She was a scary and dangerous sight. He wanted in. "Wants some company?"

"I thought you were going to get some ass?"

"Who says I ain't?" From the look on the woman's face, he realized the words that fell out of his mouth. Last thing he wanted was a sword flying from that rooftop and through his chest because of his loose lips. "I meant when I get home. I'm in no hurry. That ass still be there when I get in."

Michonne shook her head at the stumbling cover up. Although, she was perfectly fine sitting alone, she wouldn't mind some entertainment and body warmth from the giant, brash soldier. Better than sitting alone drunk with her sword. "Go in my room, it's the master bedroom. There's a bathroom in there. Climb out the window."

"As you wish, m'lady." If only Michonne had a camera, she would have been snapping away at his sluggish gentleman's bow and him tripping up the steps. Luckily, no one was else was home yet. Daryl never showed at the party, although she saw him get dressed for it, Carl was hanging out at Ron's down the street, Carol was mingling with the Susie Homemakers, Rick was still playing man of the hour and although Judith was inside, she was passed out from her busy day. Michonne made sure to bring the baby monitor with her next to her sword.

Her ears listened out for his heavy and careless steps, hoping he wouldn't wake the baby. He was suprisingly quiet. The idea of a drunk Abraham possibly theatrically tip toeing around the house was an image that hysterically stained her brain and into a laughing fit. The window slid open with Abraham trying to come through head first onto the roof. She quickly grabbed the bottle, set it to the side and latched on his arms. The last thing she needed was this man falling off and ending sprawled out on her front lawn looking like the town drunk. After a few struggling, intoxicated efforts, and his feet knocking over a few toiletries, she finally got him through.

"Damn. That's a set of fine, polished guns you got there, warrior queen." He noticed her sword and baby monitor before he plopped beside her, sighing with a smile on his face. Enjoying the late night view. "You got a nice room too. Of course Mr. Grimes would give you the master bedroom all to yourself."

Michonne twisted off the top of her newly acquired bottle and takes a gulp. It was stronger than expected. Made her wonder where in the hell did he get it. "What makes you say that?"

"Darlin', that man would hand you his own balls seasoned and sauteed on a silver platter with a little garnish on the side if you asked him." That definitely got her choking on her next taste, making her companion to chuckle in response. "That man's more whipped than a lemon meringue pie."

Michonne could only shake her head. _Where does he come up with this stuff?_ "You certainly have a way with words. You should be an author."

"I could," He nodded in agreement. Not one to believe in modesty, "but what good would that do now that we live in a world where books are now just thick folders filled with paper to wipe our asses with. Decades from now, when life gets easier, people are going to be clamoring for the next Abraham Ford novel?"

Michonne took in his words. He may have had a point. Didn't mean they all couldn't enjoy the little things. That's what he was trying to tell her before right? That they didn't have to live like that anymore? "I love to read."

So did he. It wasn't something he was ashamed of. People just had the tendancy to look at him and think he was a literary genius. His glassy eyes found her body swaying side to side to the music in the distance. Even wasted and listening to one of Aiden's 'Run Mix' she was graceful. "Well maybe I'll whip something up just for you."

A long but comfortable silence fell upon them as they passed the bottle of dark liquor back and forth. The stars twinkling at them and the chill of the night air against their skin started to disappear.

"I hope I didn't offend you."

The swaying stopped and her red eyes shot open at the sudden intrusion of his voice. "What?"

"Earlier, when we were talking." Her head dropped down and he knew she knew what he was talking about. After he had walked away from their conversation, he realized that it may had been too much at that time. He wasn't planning on dwelling on it, but he figured since they were sitting right here-

"If it weren't for you making a stand against Little Ricky, we probably wouldn't be here, sitting on this brisk night with food in our bellies, a roof under our asses and sipping on the yak." Her eyes looked to his, studying him. Wondering what his point was. "Guess I'm worried. You can be a warrior and live like a queen." His eyes briefly fell on the sword and baby monitor her fingers still grazed before looking back at her. "You've earned it."

Twice in one night, Abraham Ford was giving her deep thought. Her mind swirking. Or was that the alcohol? She wasn't sure. Whatever it was, it was comforting and frustrating. She knew she needed to try and make it work. Adjust somehow. But how? She knew how, but was she ready? _Dammit Abe. You're right._ "Well, if you weren't so hell bent on getting to Washington before, maybe the idea wouldn't have came to me. So, kudos to you." She handed him back the bottle, letting him take a celebratory swig.

"Yeah." It felt good to hear the words. To hear that all of his efforts hadn't gone to waste. It may not have been the cure they ended up with. He doubt they'd live long enough to see one exist, but they made it. To hear one of the great leaders of the makeshift family he stumbled into acknowledge his effort and decdication on doing what he believed was right, it felt pretty damn good. "Kudos to us both."

They both continued to drink out of the cold bottle of liquor late into the night on that rooftop with small smiles on their faces as they ignored the sounds of their own welcome party down the steet.

A/N: Each chapter is going to be about Michonne & Abraham hanging out on the setting on a rooftop. There may be some angsty chapters, plenty of humor chapters, getting to know you chapters ect. I'll probably have some characters in some chapters, not necessarily on the rooftop, but the maybe somewhere in the chapter. Other characters will definitely be mentioned, as you can see in this chapter. But every chapter will have Abraham and Michonne on rooftop and the progression of their friendship. Hope you'll give some feedback. Maybe some chapter ideas...


	2. Follow The Leader

A/N: I just want to say thank you all for giving this fic a chance. I'm pretty much just winging each chapter so I hope it turns out well. You can find the first chapter on or here. My apologies if there are mistakes in this chapter. It was harder for me to write than the last one…

 _Summary: After Michonne knocks Rick out for acting out, Abraham allows her her to get her frustrations out and think of the _'What Ifs'_ of the situation…  
_

 **Chapter 2: Follow The Leader**

Another night after another day on construction. Only now he was running things. These people were so damn quick to leave other behind and that wasn't the man he was. They got Noah killed. Torn to pieces because they're cowards. Same almost happened to Francine. His little Tara was in a damn coma. Sheltered. He'd show them. This place had to work.

Only problem? Rick Grimes.

That man went apeshit and caused a damn ruckus. He himself wasn't a man subtlty, but even _he_ knew there was a time and a place. Luckily, the warrior queen handled things. Shut shit down she did.

Now, here he stood outside of the makeshift prison that Rick Grimes was contained and out cold in. With Michonne. A flask in his back pocket and a thermos container of canned soup ready to deliver, no home cooked meal tonight, but he figured it was better than nothing. Not to mention something to help take the edge off.

He turned the knob and openned the door to the dimly lit, small room. Rosita once again checked on Rick while he was still passed out with bandages everywhere. He look like he just let Judith put bland ass stickers all over his face while he was sleeping. Carl was sitting in the chair next to the bed looking as if his father was a hot mess that he needed to clean up but didn't know where to start.

"He shouldn't be up for a good while. I'll come by in the morning to check up on him." Rosita spoke while putting things back in the kit she brought over. He hadn't seen her much all day. It's usually just in the morning and before they go to sleep. And that was a _maybe_.

Carl looked over in his direction like boy asking for his momma's approval. It confused the hell out of him because wasn't anyone's momma. "Can I stay?"

"You should go get some rest. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day."

He nearly jumped out of his damn skinned at her voice. How he missed her, he had no idea. She was so damn stealthy that he didn't even realize she was posted up on the wall next to door her was standing in front of, still wearing her complete uniform. Tie and all.

He glanced at her for a moment and he already saw what he expected. Gentleness and understanding for the young cowboy. Confusion and frustration at the man sleeping like rock that's been kicked with a rain of Bruce Lee combos.

The cowboy sighed in defeat, but followed the warrior queen's orders, hugging her before stepping out the door. Rosita, exhausted grabbed her kit and headed towards them as well stopping before Michonne. "I'll make sure he gets home okay. And I'll check on Sasha as well."

"Thank you."

Rosita caressed her hand across his waist without even looking at him. It didn't really bother him too much. He was just happy that she was acknowledging his presence. There was a strain between them as a result of his _shit just got real_ breakdown a few weeks before had been the bull to horn him in the ass. It was a wake up call. A painful one, but one nonetheless. She was still here though. It was something.

"See you when you get in." And just like that, she was off.

And it was just them. Him and Michonne.

And the now loud ass snoring Rick.

"He should get that check out. Sound like a damn warthog who's asshole's been tickled by a feather." He smiled at his own joke, even though he was serious. Rick was loud as shit. Distracting.

Michonne didn't respond though. She just stared at the man she KO'd earlier that day.

"It's been a long stressful day. Good thing it was a good evening. Weather wise that is."

Still no response.

He wasn't even sure she even heard a word he's said or that she was even aware of his presence.

He needed to get her attention somehow. Right now, the warrior queen wasn't doing so well. He also didn't want to lose his life either. Finally facing towards her, thrusting the thermos container into her arms getting her to look at him.

"Come outside. I wanna converse."

Her eyebrows furrowed at the demand and he was happy that she was currently unarmed. Her eyes locked back to that heavy rock on the bed. She was worried. It was all in her eyes. Pissed and worried. She didn't seem that upset before, but maybe that was for the boy's benefit. Maybe she just wanted to fume in private and right now, he was practically invisible to her. He'd let her, but he figured she could at least do it over a hot meal.

"Come outside." The demand came once again only this time more urgent. Taking care of this family was her main priority and he hooked her with it. Of course she followed him when he walked out of the building.

Michonne looked up at him with concern, ready to anticipate whatever possible bad news he was going to lay on her. What she didn't expect was for him to go to the side of the building and pull out a ladder and set it to the side to the building, gesturing her to take the first.

She shot a glare at him with her hands on her hips. She couldn't believe he brought her out her for that. "Abraham, I don't time for this." There was a situation she had to figure out how to fix.

There's _always_ a situation needing to be fixed. "You need to eat, get some fresh air and clear that massive brain of yours."

"I'm supposed to be watching over Rick."

"The man doesn't need you to wipe his ass. Coldcock him sure, but you heard Rosita. Little Ricky's out for the count." He softened his voice. It wasn't a plea really, more of a request filled with certainty. "Come on. Just for a little while."

After a few moments of jaw clenching and muling over his words, she hande him the thermos before turning to the ladder and making her way up to the top.

 _Gotcha._ He wasn't sure she'd go for another rooftop session. They haven't spoken one on one since that night of the welcome party. Only in their personal group of leaders to discuss brief community and family bussiness. It wasn't awkward between them, they've just never got around to do anything else. Maybe it was just meant to be a one time thing. Well, Abraham was willing to test the fate of that right now.

On handed, he climbed the ladder and saw her already sitting to the side, looking straight ahead and avoiding his presence. He took a seat next to her, not too close, setting her soup in between them.

It was a quiet night. It wasn't an unsual thing but it was certainly different from the last time they sat up on a roof. The roof was lower and less slanted, for one. There was no party or celebration happening down the road. No one in the streets. Even the air was different. Instead of being a comfortable chill, there was heat and tension all around them. No escape.

And now, neither of them were saying a word. Although he was pleased that he got her up on this roof and away from Rick for a moment, he would still like for her to say _something_. He pulled his flask from his back pocket and began to get his sip on. He'd wait.

Five minutes went by. Comfortable silence. Ten minutes. He knew she was trapped in her own thoughts. Fifteen minutes. The tension from her body was crashing into him wave after wave.

"What the hell was he thinking?"

There you go. He smirked of course, finally succeeding. Hell, she probably didn't even realize she had spoken out loud, but he wasn't going to let this opportunity pass up.

"That right there, is the million dollar question, isn't it?"

Her head finally turned to him and he knew he was right. With the anger and confusion swimming in her dark eyes, she'd had forgotten that he was next to her.

"I take it you didn't know about the gun."

She shook her head and her eyes narrowed at him a bit. "No. Did you?" Waiting for the possible lie. Good thing he didn't have to. He figured he'd thank Rick for not including him in whatever plan he had when he got the chance.

"Not at all. Question is, did he do it alone? Or did someone else know?" She probably was asking herself these questions. She was smart enough of a person to do so. If she did, sometimes it was just better to say things out loud. If not, then at least the possible theory was out there.

She seemed to believe him after a few moments of watching him. Or maybe his questions distracted her. Her voice suddenly spat out with anger, frustration and hurt as she loosend her tie and shrugged of her jacket. "Why didn't he just talk to me?"

"Because warrior queen, that man didn't want sense talk."

Her eyes rolled, far from being in the mood to trying to decipher what ever the hell Abraham was talking about. She came out here to clear her damn head. "What?"

At least she was willing to listen. Maybe. But here was a chance to give her some perspective. "You m'lady, are a strong, noble, smart, beautiful and composed woman. And most of all, at least in Rick's case, you're his anchor." That got her attention. "You are the post and rope that keeps that hot head full of hot hair from flying off like a damn hot air balloon. When you feel yourself coming off the ground, you get your anchor to get your feet planted again. That man in there _wanted_ fly off the handle, even though he knew he shouldn't have. From what I heard, did he make sense? Yeah. But there's a time and a place. He may have tried to keep mind intact or else he would have flipped his shit sooner, but obviously not hard enough. Not if he was keeping his secrets from you. His anchor. That's just my take on the groundbreaking event of tonight."

He took another sip, letting her take the time to digest his words. He wasn't as obtuse as people believed him to be. She sighed. "So many things are going wrong. Sasha's gone off the deep end," He perked up a bit hearing that. It wasn't news. He saw her camped out when he went up for his shit that morning. He was glad that Rosita went to Michonne like he asked her to, "Noah's dead and Tara's in a coma. Now, I have to save Rick's ass from being exiled because he's too busy focused on whatever."

That's true. They all saw her take him down. From their viewpoint, she saved them from Big Bad Rick Grimes, although he knew she was saving Rick from himself. All in all, they probably trust her judgement more than anyone else's in their group. But where would that lead them. "And if he does? What then?"  
She had to look at the bigger picture of it all. This was more than just Rick. They needed a plan. She was definitely kicking herself for planning ahead on the _What Ifs_. "I don't know."

That wasn't the answer he was hoping for. "Coming to this place was for all of us. We all needed to be saved from the despair of this world, even if only for a moment. Most of all, you did this for those kids. The fate of that young cowboy and baby girl. So the question is, if Rick gets exiled and he decides to go quietly, will you follow?"

She felt defeated and it was making her pissed all over again. All because of Rick. _He_ put her in this position. Her voice was barely over a whisper as if anyone was even out to hear her be so uncertain. "I don't know."

"It's best that you figure it out. For those kids' sake at least." He was invested in many things at this point. The family, this place they now were supposed to call home, his friendship-

"What about you?"

It shouldn't have caught him off guard, but it still did. She seemed to be excellent at it. "What about me?"

"If Rick gets exiled, will you follow?" From the way she was looking. She could use a little help with her decision. He was afraid that anything he said would sound selfish though.

"Only if you do." The scrunched up face he made told him that he needed to eleborate. After a rejected offer of his booze, most likely to keep a clear head about what to do with her Rick, he took a deep breath before continuing. "You're the one who got us all here. I'd hardly find it fair at all for me to just stick around and enjoy the festivities while you get stuck driving the drunk friend home early for puking everywere, when it was your idea to attend in the first place."

The corner of lips twitched a little, but was quickly. She wanted to still be mad at Rick. She had so many decisions to deal with at the moment. He knew she wasn't getting any sleep tonight, planning on staring holes into Rick's wounded body, and he'd given her more than enough to think about. Getting back to the purpose of them being up there in the first place was what he was ready to get back to. Clearing the head he just accidentally cluttered.

"Now eat up," placing over the thermos over in her lap while taking another sip, "and tell me about that hole you plan on ripping into Grimes when he wakes up."


	3. Stressed and Depressed

A/N: So this on is a bit more angsty than the other two. I know right? Not exactly much humor as you'd hoped in the last 2 already, but there will be some good times in some chapters coming up. This one takes place at the end of 6x05 and sometime during 6x06. Since there wouldn't really have been time for Michonne/Abraham interaction in 6A I've kinda been stumped a bit, but I'm planning on doing some possible near futre ones after this until 6B comes out and hopefully ggive me more to work with. Ideas are welcomed. You can find me on tumblr as Ash-Lee-Can. Anyways, here's the latest chapter. If there are any mistakes, my apologies. Hope you all enjoy...

 **Chapter 3- Stressed and Depressed**

 _Summary: Now that the half of the herd has broken off and parts of the group is separated with no communication, both Michonne and Abraham reflect on the excruciating day..._

Today was one of the longest days of her life. If even gave the hot and humid days of walking to D.C., after they brokedown in Fredricksburg, a run for it's money. That was more about dehydration and lack of food though. Not fear of everyone getting ripped to pieces. Sure she's had worst days in this world, but when she woke up that morning, after very little sleep nonetheless, she wasn't expecting this. Sure she was prepared, she was always prepared, but she wasn't really expecting everything that happened. Not all in one day.

That night, as she sat on the rooftop next to her bathroom window, her brain racked over the days events with a walkie talkie in her hand.

It was only supposed to be a dry run and Rick was kidding when he said that the truck could fall any moment. She just wish it wasn't at _that_ moment. Everyone had moved to the desinated areas. They were working as a team. Everything was working. She had found herself in many terrifying situations with walkers, but the moment when that herd started slamming against the other side of that wall as she shot off her flare was one of the top ones. Any wrong moment could have been the end of it. And to think she was just joking about a stolen peanut butter protien bar not long before that.

The plan should have went on without a hitch after that. Everything was fine. Daryl, Sasha and Abraham were leading the herd away. They should have been back by now. There was already a boat of tragedy and she feared there would be a lot more to come. They were three of their top guns. The archer, sniper and gladiator.

 _Gladiator._ Michonne smirked at the thought. That was an accurate description for him in this world. Sure he was a a soldier at heart, but seen him in battle. She could easily see him at home in the middle of a grand arena, shoving a spear into a lion's chest or swinging a broadsword down into his competitors skull. Spectators within the Roman Empire cheering him on, asking for more bloodshed and praising him as a god. Or in a far less dramatic state, in a modern arena in the middle of a ring, cutting an epic promo and bodyslamming men left and right with title belt around his waist. Just like the men and women she use to watch with her cousins on tv.

Rick at that moment caught her attention from down the street, as he awkwardly crept his way into Jessie Anderson's garage. Abraham briefly mentioned that he had noticed some interaction the two of them before the street brawl took place with her husband during one of their talks a couple of nights ago. She had been noticing the behavior the past couple of days between the two of them. It was completely awkward and she wasn't sure what to think of it. Did he like like her?

 _What am I? Twelve?_ It wasn't any of her business. _I just hope he knows what he's doing._ She was willing to look past it, unless it affected her family. Those kids especially.

But David's words were ringing in her ear.

 _"After I thought I was dead and gone, she was my friend. Then she was more. She made me more. Even better than how I used to be."_

Watching David being devoured right before her eyes broke her heart and almost her soul to the point she didn't get the chance to put him out of his misery like she normally would have. She was so hell bent on getting him, all of them, back home. _Why didn't I take the note?_ Was she trying to prove something? That they were her people and she needed to treat them as such? Getting them all home was such a priority. Far more than Rick's for sure.

Being challenged by Heath the way that she had stirred something in her. She needed to prove to them that she wasn't Rick. She was her own person. They needed to trust her. Abraham made her believe that they already because she wasn't _him_. She had already proven that, right?

Having to be the one to tell Betsy gave her absolute dread. Heath stayed by his friend's side while he was being medically treated so it had to be her. Of course it had to be her. She held onto that woman when she brokedown in her arms until the hysteric cries died and she felt the numbness transfer from the broken widow to the samauri. She couldn't imagine someone having to tell Rick that she didn't make it. Stop it. She wasn't going to think about him right now. She wish she had stayed. Maybe Betsy wouldn't have taken her own life if she did. She couldn't bring her husband home. She didn't prevent her death. Returning home without David made her feel like a failure. Returning without Glenn made her feel like the worst.

When she stepped out of Betsy's house, there was Maggie heading right towards her and her stomach dropped. She suspected that Maggie might have been pregnant. Neither Maggie or Glenn said anything, but she noticed the signs. She even wanted to protest at the pet store when Glenn planned on going on his mission. Maybe that would have made him think twice about it. Maybe she would have let him do it like she told him she knew. Reminded him what he needed to get back home to. He was like an optomistic little brother to her. In factm hi giving up hope back in Richmond was the last straw for her Glenn was losing hope then she knew they were in trouble. Maggie was the little sister she never had. It was bad enough not finding and being able to stop the Govenor in time before killing her father, she was the one who gave her the hopefull news that Beth was still alive only to be struck by tragedy once again. She had let the family down.

And to makes matters even worse, Rosita had walked up to her at the same time. _Abraham._ Another reminder how everything went wrong. She didn't have a walkie to communicate with anyone. Then there was the whole invasion by these so called Wolves that happened through all of this. She thought about going back out there herself. To find Glenn. At least to see if Abraham and the others were okay for Rosita's sake and seeif they heard anything. If she could just find a walkie talkie around. But then Rick showed up, bringing along half the herd they've been trying to detour all damn day along with him. That was the whole point of Glenn's solo mission. The whole point of Rick going off alone to the R.V. Turned out it was all for nothing.

Rick finally came out of the Anderson's garage and looked even more awkward and confused then when he walked in. He didn't see above him as she sat on their roof when he walked into their house. Most likely to go talk to Carol. She wanted to figure out what was up with him but she wasn't in the mood. Not one bit. Not to mention she needed sleep. She needed to get ready to deal with Morgan tomorrow. Aman that although she didn't completely agree with, she felt sympathetic to. And with the way Carol and Rick have been looking at him, she knew this was going to be a frustrating intervention...

Well this day was just an absolute shitstorm. Abraham was a man who has executed many missions in his life and this one was by far one the absolute fucked one that he's been apart of.

He wanted to take watch that night as he and Sasha waited for the hopeful return of the redneck archer. So here he stood on top of the roof armed and ready. He needed to be ready. Those shit wipes weren't going to come and just take them without a fight.

Actually, he wanted to leave. They could make it back, the two of them. It wasn't as if Daryl wasn't quick to ditch them with a giant herd of dead pieces of shit behind them earlier, when the whole purpose of them being out there in the first place was to have his back. Who's to say that he was doing it again right this minute.

But of course Sasha now to be reasonable. To remind them that they're family. Daryl came back. _Leave no man behind._ It was a code he lived by his whole life. Great, now he felt guilty for considering leaving. They weren't even sure that he was alive though. He sure as hell weren't answering his damn walkie and whoever was spraying lead their way weren't bullshitting. Hopefully they were trackers considering the deliberate tracks they left behind for Daryl to find or they'd be neck deep in shit mud just ready to sink them in and crust up their asses.

He wondered what was happening back home. That's where they were headed. Back home. And now they were stuck God knows where. The edge of Springfield maybe. He studied that damn map so much he's pretty sure that's where they were. Not far from home. But too far for help.

It wasn't just Daryl that wasn't answering his damn talkie. They lost Grimes' connection. He sounded like he was in distress. He was a tough man. He'd probably made it. Probably. Tobin, the man who stepped down from his construction leadership for him, wasn't responding. No one knew where the Magic Man Glenn was at. He was supposed to be with Michonne, who didn't have a walkie herself. But they got separated last he heard. Something about burning a building for a distration. She wasn't supposed to need one. She was with Rick and then she wasn't. Then she was with Glenn and then she wasn't. He knew she made it though. If anyone made it in this world, he was certain it was her. He's heard the stories.

He hoped like hell Rosita was okay. Rick had put her on guard duty with Spencer. He'd better had done his job too. Things may have changed between him and his girl but he sure as hell still cared. All he knew was the damn herd broke off and went straight towards home. Rick took care of it. He said he had it. But how many times has Rick screwed up lately? Chasing after a broken bunny and losing his shit for the world to see that the mama panther make his ass fall back in line.

He'd hope Sasha was at least getting some sleep since she wanted to stick with the plan of waiting. She'd been giving him attitude lately. Why? He wasn't sure. From declaring them not being friends a couple weeks back and cutting him without apology to her trying to check him for checking her, when they both knew he should be checking himself.

He worried about her still. His mind went back to when they were trapped in the barn, waiting out the hell storm that began as God's blessing to Satan's unwanted jizzfest, he just watched her. The heat that he felt wasn't from the flames that licked the darkness of the barn while Rick's grumbled his warped war mentality to the group like he was telling ghost stories on Halloween.

No it was her. Her fire. He sensed it almost as quickly as he sensed Michonne's when they sat in that traincar. Probably because he saw a part of himself. If he was a curly haired, small mocha latte without the whip cream. Sasha was probably smarter than him though, more logical. It made her all the more intriguing. She made him pause, even if it was only for a half a second at a time. It was different than what him and Michonne were creating and definately different than what he and Rosita were currently a shadow of. He just wanted to be free of the demons that plagued him far before the world went to absolute shit. He had lost so much that and fought so hard. So what was wrong with him finding some joyment in the fucked up, current ernviroment known as the world?

 _Because there was nothing beautiful with taunting death and the decay, asshole. Pull your head out of your ass._

She was testing him and she didn't even know it. His choices needed to be clear for he was forever and always be accountable for them. Choices. Moving forward. Wasn't that what he was trying to tell Michonne that one night? Something like that. He was drunk when he was saying it so he wasn't too sure. He wasn't ready though. He hasn't gotten all of it out of his system yet. Maybe with time. Maybe tomorrow. Now he was hoping that maybe Michonne could guide him with that. Whether she believed it or not, she seemed like she knew what she was doing. She seemed to know what it was like letting go. Much better than he did at least.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I wanted to try something different with this one, especially with little to go on in the first half of season 6, with the characters separated and still being able to have them on rooftops. Also doing a chapter with no dialogue was interested me. While I was writing this one, I realized that I could have put a Abraham/Michonne one before this so that might do that next chapter. Thanks for the feedback everyone. Truly appreciate you all taking a chance on me...


	4. What Do You Want For You?

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated. I had planned to but I ended up losing my muse a bit over the hiatus even though I had ideas for chapters and I also ended up started a couple of Richonne fics. I'm getting back into the groove though. I started this chapter in particular after the mid season premiere. Clearly this is before 6x10. Richonne is canon and everything is beautiful. Be sure to check out my re-uploaded/edited reaction vid on youtube. Just search "Ash Lee Can 6x10". Hope you all enjoy. All mistakes are mine...

Chapter 4

It had been a little over a week since the invasion of the dead. A little over a week since they lost the leader of the community and Carl lost his right eye. Since the community as a whole came together and fought when it mattered.

It had been another long day of clean up and building. Carl finally came home the night before and Michonne was grateful that he was in the clear and also she wouldn't have to sleep uncomfortably in the infirmary, sharing one of the beds with Judith. Rick told her to get some rest, that he'd look after Carl for the night. Made it easier considering her bedroom moved to the first floor, instead of upstairs like the rest. And yet, she still found herself ontop of Abraham's rooftop for the night.

They sat is in silence, splitting a six pack of beer that Olivia has stashed away for special occassions. She didn't realize how tense her mind and body was until she sat on the roof and took that first sip. She was happy that her boy was finally home, that her friends made it home and everything was coming together.

"So, you and Sasha?"

Abraham nodded with a small smile hiding under his Hulk Hogan mustache. "A woman like that, you have to shake, bake and make that move if you want to get things cooking. I had come to realize I couldn't pass up a meal like that."

She listen to his eloquent words. It reminded her of Mike, in fact. The way he made that first move when the ther guys in the art gallery were too imtimidate to barely conversation, let alone a bold proposale of a date. She carefully brought up a factor in all of it. "And Rosita? How's she's taking it?"

He nodded again. "She's taking it."

She understood how it may have been a bit difficult for Rosita. She had been really worried for Abraham while they were gone and everyone knew. For Abraham to return home to move. She was strong though. She continued to move things along, still working hard with helping to rebuild the community despite the unexpected breakup. She also felt happy for her two friends being happy with each other. She'd noticed something before but she. Sasha had been through a lot. Abraham too, even if she didn't know his whole story. She could feel it though.

Abraham chuckled and shook his head and she wondered where in the hell did the conversation take a comedic turn.

"What's so funny?" Her mind flashed back to when she said the same words to Rick almost two weeks prior. It was a different situation but the words still came through.

"My new lady has see up on the rooftops before." Michonne looked at him for . She wasn't getting the joke. He looked at her with a grin. "I may or may not have casually brought up an attraction towards you before so now she's a little suspicious." His eyes went to the front of the gates. With the tower down, Sasha did her lookout ontop on the newly rebuilt platform right behind the wall and there she was currently watching them, using the scope of her rifle. She wasn't even trying to be sneaky about it either, like any moment, she was going to give a warning shot. It was no secret that Abraham was a flirt.

Michonne laughed at it all. It certainly wasn't what she had been expecting. "I hope you set it straight."

Abraham sipped his beer. "It'll blow over, I'm sure." He raised his beer in Sasha's direction. She playfully gave him the finger in return before turning back around to get back on duty. He laughed and looked down at Michonne. "What about Rick?"

"What about him?"

"Is he kicking up dirt on how you're spending your evening?"

Michonne rolled her eyes a little. Why would he care that she would be spending the evening having drinks with Abraham? "He has a lot more things to worry about right now then where I am. Besides, there's no real reason Rick would and I."

"Then why is he staring at us from the upstairs bathroom like he'd just be pluck from low budget horror flick?"

What? Without turning her head, she used her periphials and sure enough, Rick was standing behind the bathroom window next door looking at them. It was dark enough that he could easily hide in the shadows without barely being seen.

"Forgot to tell your boyfriend about us?"

"Oh hush." Michone elbowed his arm, laughed and shook her head. "He was probably just wondering where I was in case something happened."

"Darling, he's been standing there for at least five minutes."

Oh. She continued to watch him from the corner of her eye. She had no idea why he was just watching her while he was supposed to be on Carl duty for the night. From what she could tell, he didn't seem mad, more like dazed and confused. "He's just being Rick. He's probably not even actually paying attention to us."

"Right." He didn't sound to convinced, but he seemed to be letting it go for now. Sometime soon, he knew that she see what he already knew.

They fell once again in silence. Rick eventually stopped creeping in the window and they moved on to their second beer.

"So what now?"

Abraham burped loudly into the night and took in her words. "Now? We enjoy our beers, company and the first bit of peace we've had since we've got here, warrior queen."

Michonne appreciated his words, but that wasn't what she was talking about. "Come on, ginger gladiator. I mean the future."

He knew what she meant. "'Ginger Gladiator', huh."

She shrugged as she took another sipped of her beer. She still remembered when she thought of it while the threat of the herd were at their front gates and she sat on the rooftop alone, wondering if her missing family were ever coming back home. "It popped in my when you were out there during the destruction. Not that hard to imagine you in Ancient Rome with your token redhair, swinging a broadsword at another gladiator's head, entertaining taunting the crowd as you did so. Also, if I get a nickname, so do you."

Abraham thought of the description and definitely didn't found no offense to it. He took pride in that she'd took the time to give him a nickname. "Fair enough."

Another moment passed. "So what now?" She repeated.

"We live." It seemed so simple as he said it. As he seemed to geniunely believe it.

"Just like that?"

He glanced over to Sasha, who was turned away from them, and watched for a few moments. He smirked down at Michonne with happiness and content twinkling his eyes. "Yeah. Just like that."

She smiled in return as his joy was contageous. She had Rick, Carl, Judith as well as everyone else. Was it enough? "Deanna, before she passed, ask me something. She said 'What do you want, for you?'. For the first time in a long time, I was completely stumped. Finding a place for us to live, those kids, making sure everyone was okay? That's what I wanted."

"You're allowed to want more for yourself, you know. Certainly deserve it, I'd say. Not having to worry about a bare knuckle, street brawl, someone delibertly hunting the dead, or someone getting half of their face by another resident." She slightly grimaced at the last description. "You don't have to take care of everyone and it sure as hell ain't your job, even if you are a queen."

She never understood why he always seems to put her on this pedestal. She definitely didn't feel like she deserved the title considering she did what needed to be done. At the same time, his words were once again comforting. Maybe it was that he always knew to say or if it was just the way he said it.

"A true queen has the ability to stand alone. Take the time to enjoy what you have. Enjoy the little things in your kingdom." He lifted his can of brew in a toast.

Maybe that would be a start. She could work on that. Carl was home and still alive. Rick seemed to be working with a clearer mind. Judith was trying growing and even looking as if she was trying to crawl soon. It was all a start to just take in. She didn't have to rush. It seemed that she'll have some time to answer Deanna's dying question. She tapped her can into his, making the drinks form up a little inside.

"You're a great man, Abraham. Glad you chose me to split this beer with you."

 _A/N: I'm still on a major Richonne high. I'm very thankful that there are people who've given this friendship series a chance. I know that despite my love for the character Abraham, that there are some who aren't into the character. So I'm grateful for those who've given this a chance, reviewed and everything..._


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